April 04, 2006

Lessig + Warhol 4 eva

Andy Warhol was an artist. He was also a
businessman. As he famously quipped, "Being good in business is the
most fascinating kind of art." Warhol was great at both.

But Warhol's art was of a particular sort. Appropriationist
is what some call it, as if there is art that doesn't draw from the
culture around us. Remix might be a less charged moniker. Warhol
created work that appropriated and remixed. Some of that culture was
owned, meaning copyrighted or trademarked (think Campbell's soup cans).
Some wasn't. But whether owned or not, the result was distinctly
Warhol. He freely built on work that came before him.

When he died in 1987, his will called for setting up a foundation to
manage his estate. From the beginning, that foundation faced an obvious
question: What should it do when others used Warhol's images?

The artist didn't leave much of an answer­. He directed his executor
to establish a "foundation for the advancement of the visual arts" and
named three people to start the organization. But the Andy Warhol
Foundation for the Visual Arts had to define its own mission and, more
important, the values it would stand for. Would it exercise the control
the law gives it over Warhol's art to maximize its income? Or would it
exercise that control the way Warhol practiced his art?

I've grown so cynical about these copyright and culture debates that
I wouldn't have thought an organization in the Warhol Foundation's
position would even ask such questions. Of course it would exercise its
right to maximize control. Rabid intellectual property protectionism -
IP extremism - is so rampant that if the foundation demanded that
future Warhols pay for permission to build on Warhol's art, most people
wouldn't even notice the hypocrisy.

So I was surprised to hear the foundation's president, Joel Wachs,
describe its values to an audience of New York City bar association
members gathered to learn about fair use. The Warhol Foundation is
"vigorous in enforcing our rights when it comes to people wanting to
use Warhol's art for commercial purposes," Wachs said. But when it
comes to artists and scholars, the rules are very different. "We permit
artists to use and reference Warhol work without charge and without
challenge." And "we let scholars use Warhol imagery for just a nominal
fee to cover the cost of administering the rights." Wachs told me
later, "We're Lessig when it comes to artists and scholars" and "Disney
when it comes to commercial use."

To people who live outside the IP-extremist­ culture, this sounds
quite sen­sible. But inside that culture, the foundation's values are
incomprehensible. Not only are artists free to create and profit from
images that build on Warhol's, but the foundation doesn't even ask to
see how his work will be used. To condition the freedom of scholars or
artists to use Warhol's pieces upon such a review would be censorship,
Wachs explained. And the foundation has learned that there are people
on both the right and the left who are keen to engage in just this sort
of censorship.

Universal Studios told Lasica he would be "obligated to pay $900 for
each 15 seconds." When he asked for two 10-second clips from a Daffy
Duck movie, Warner Bros. said, "We do not ... allow our material to be
edited or altered in any way." And the Walt Disney Company told Lasica
it "had to establish a general policy" of - you guessed it - saying no.
In Disney's view, no one - not even artists, not even noncommercially -
is free to build on Disney the way Walt Disney built on the Brothers
Grimm.

There's not much hope that Congress will begin to think sensibly
about the IP extremism its laws encourage. But we'd achieve a great
deal if copyright holders - and those who challenge them - started
speaking and acting with a Warhol sensibility.

As a former Los Angeles city council­man and mayoral candidate,
Wachs knows well the arguments of the extremes­. He and his foundation
do creators and creativity a great service by resisting the demands of
the extremes and practicing the values by which Warhol lived.

Comments

Andy Warhol was an artist. He was also a
businessman. As he famously quipped, "Being good in business is the
most fascinating kind of art." Warhol was great at both.

But Warhol's art was of a particular sort. Appropriationist
is what some call it, as if there is art that doesn't draw from the
culture around us. Remix might be a less charged moniker. Warhol
created work that appropriated and remixed. Some of that culture was
owned, meaning copyrighted or trademarked (think Campbell's soup cans).
Some wasn't. But whether owned or not, the result was distinctly
Warhol. He freely built on work that came before him.

When he died in 1987, his will called for setting up a foundation to
manage his estate. From the beginning, that foundation faced an obvious
question: What should it do when others used Warhol's images?

The artist didn't leave much of an answer­. He directed his executor
to establish a "foundation for the advancement of the visual arts" and
named three people to start the organization. But the Andy Warhol
Foundation for the Visual Arts had to define its own mission and, more
important, the values it would stand for. Would it exercise the control
the law gives it over Warhol's art to maximize its income? Or would it
exercise that control the way Warhol practiced his art?

I've grown so cynical about these copyright and culture debates that
I wouldn't have thought an organization in the Warhol Foundation's
position would even ask such questions. Of course it would exercise its
right to maximize control. Rabid intellectual property protectionism -
IP extremism - is so rampant that if the foundation demanded that
future Warhols pay for permission to build on Warhol's art, most people
wouldn't even notice the hypocrisy.

So I was surprised to hear the foundation's president, Joel Wachs,
describe its values to an audience of New York City bar association
members gathered to learn about fair use. The Warhol Foundation is
"vigorous in enforcing our rights when it comes to people wanting to
use Warhol's art for commercial purposes," Wachs said. But when it
comes to artists and scholars, the rules are very different. "We permit
artists to use and reference Warhol work without charge and without
challenge." And "we let scholars use Warhol imagery for just a nominal
fee to cover the cost of administering the rights." Wachs told me
later, "We're Lessig when it comes to artists and scholars" and "Disney
when it comes to commercial use."

To people who live outside the IP-extremist­ culture, this sounds
quite sen­sible. But inside that culture, the foundation's values are
incomprehensible. Not only are artists free to create and profit from
images that build on Warhol's, but the foundation doesn't even ask to
see how his work will be used. To condition the freedom of scholars or
artists to use Warhol's pieces upon such a review would be censorship,
Wachs explained. And the foundation has learned that there are people
on both the right and the left who are keen to engage in just this sort
of censorship.

Universal Studios told Lasica he would be "obligated to pay $900 for
each 15 seconds." When he asked for two 10-second clips from a Daffy
Duck movie, Warner Bros. said, "We do not ... allow our material to be
edited or altered in any way." And the Walt Disney Company told Lasica
it "had to establish a general policy" of - you guessed it - saying no.
In Disney's view, no one - not even artists, not even noncommercially -
is free to build on Disney the way Walt Disney built on the Brothers
Grimm.

There's not much hope that Congress will begin to think sensibly
about the IP extremism its laws encourage. But we'd achieve a great
deal if copyright holders - and those who challenge them - started
speaking and acting with a Warhol sensibility.

As a former Los Angeles city council­man and mayoral candidate,
Wachs knows well the arguments of the extremes­. He and his foundation
do creators and creativity a great service by resisting the demands of
the extremes and practicing the values by which Warhol lived.